


Unfamiliar

by tsukinofaerii



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2010-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/tsukinofaerii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony end up swapping bodies. It's not as fun as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfamiliar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valtyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valtyr/gifts).



"This is strange." Steve turned the Iron Man helmet around in his hands. It seemed... _bigger_. A lot of things had since the body switch. Wanda had been horrified that her spell had gone so wrong and had gone off for therapy ice cream with Jen while Hank Pym did what he could.

In his typical way, Tony had flat refused to try magic until every other option had been exhausted. He'd even drawn the line at Reed Richards, not wanting to risk _bad_ becoming _worse_ through the Fantastic Four's usual run of strangeness. Steve would have thought it was funny, if he weren't struggling to keep from scratching his beard. No wonder Tony changed facial hair so often. Steve had only had Tony's face for an hour and he was already thinking of shaving it all off.

"Don't start." Tony ran his hands through his—through _Steve's_ hair, leaning back against the kitchen counter while Hank tapped out strange sequences on his hand-held device. "Please tell me I don't usually look this small to you. It's only a two inch difference!"

Steve forbore to comment.

"I'm sure we'll have this fixed," Hank promised, scanning them both with something Steve suspected had been based on something from a science fiction novel. "It should only be temporary. Personalities aren't designed to be changed around like this. This is impossible."

"Hank. We're in a remake of _Freaky Friday_." Tony crossed his arms. Steve had never realized how intimidating it was when he did that. Or maybe it was just that Tony was used to having authority. _Steve's_ body to back it up. "It's obviously _not_ impossible. Just fix it."

Hank gave him a long-suffering look. "I'll try, but since magic caused it, we'll probably need Wanda."

Steve saw Tony building up to one of his extended rants about magic and jumped into the conversation before anyone _else_ on the team needed therapy sweets. "Just do your best, Hank. We have faith in you." He shifted his weight sideways, placing a discreet hand at the small of Tony's back and massaging. It was usually something Tony did for him, but it seemed to work on Steve's body regardless of who was occupying it. Tony didn't relax entirely, but his shoulders rounded slightly. "Do you have all the readings you need?"

An unhappy hum came from Hank's device. "I suppose," Hank admitted, using his thumb to tap at a button. "For now. But I really—"

"Then why don't you go see what you can find out and Tony and I will talk. Lay some ground rules, that sort of thing."

Hank, Steve knew, wasn't an idiot. He looked back and forth between them warily, but there was nothing he could do but gather his equipment and head to his lab, leaving Tony and Steve alone in the mansion's kitchen.

Captain America and Iron Man faced off in each other's bodies, Tony's expression of frustrated annoyance twisting Steve's face oddly. Steve suspected that his own resignation looked equally strange on Tony's countenance. After a short staring match, Tony turned away and ran his fingers through his short blond hair again.

"At least you already know about the birth mark," he quipped, but his voice fell flat. He seemed to realize it, because his next comment was, "I hate magic."

"Hey." Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder, slipping it around to the back of his neck when Tony turned into the touch. He worked at tension knots that hadn't been there before Tony took up residence. "We'll get it fixed."

Tony's head lolled forward, resting his forehead against Steve's. "How do you put up with everyone staring at you all the time, expecting you to make everything better?"

"I just try not to let them down." Steve kissed the corner of Tony's mouth. It was a little weird, feeling freshly shaved stubble under his lips instead of Tony's beard. "People look at you like that too, you know."

A slight shift of weight, and Tony's lips pressed against his, a slow sweep of skin to skin. "I'm not Captain America," he insisted. "It's different."

Steve closed his eyes; it was creepy looking at himself up close. "Sure." He kissed Tony properly, lips and teeth and tongue working together to drag a pleased murmur out of him.

That was the last thing that went right. Nothing fit the way it should have. The metal joints of his gauntlet caught at Tony's hair, and the iron breastplate dug into his ribs uncomfortably when Tony pressed closer. Metal scraped metal when the scales of Tony's costume scraped him, screeching so loudly that it was obvious Tony had forgotten about them and was sliding against the lay of the mail. They winced and pulled away, staring at each other.

Tony broke away first, headed for the laboratory stairs. "I'll go call Reed."

Steve went the other way, towards the door. "I'll talk to Wanda."

It was two days before Wanda's spell finally wore off. Tony spent both of them locked in the bathroom, refusing to speak to anyone other than Jarvis. Steve spent them with Wanda, letting her throw spell after spell at him, trying to undo her own work. By the time the spell broke, Tony had developed an electronic back scrubber and Steve had spent three hours speaking to wall paint.

They never spoke of it again.


End file.
